First Impressions Don't Define
by MikeBlazeSinian
Summary: Chance and Jake were once the enemies of Mike. After a turn of events, they grew to become three of the best friends in the world. What changed? Rated T for strong language and a fight in chapter 3. (Part 5 of 5: Complete. I will likely never publish another story like this one, that means no more High School AU's from me.)
1. The Formation of the First Impression

**Title: First Impressions Don't Define**

**Author: MikeBlazeSinian**

**Rating: T (Strong Language and a Fight [Chapter 3])**

**Summary: Chance and Jake were once the enemies of Mike. After a turn of events, they grew to become three of the best friends in the world. What changed?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _SWAT Kats_. It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its staff. The themes are being used for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process. I do, however, own Mike.**

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Chapter 1: The Formation of the First Impression

It was the first day of the new school year. Mike Sinian unloaded another one of his binders into his locker, checking his schedule to make sure he kept the right one out. "Alright," he said to himself as he hung his now empty bookbag.

When Mike closed the locker, he felt an unbearable pressure at the end of his tail. He yowled and dropped his books as he whipped himself around and massaged the end of his two-tone tail. He eyed a muscular, goldenrod and brown-striped tiger tabby. "Was that necessary?" Mike asked.

"You shouldn't have had it in the middle of the hallway," the tabby said, crossing his arms.

"You think I wanted it to be 30% longer than average?" Mike asked, kneeling to pick up his binder.

"Don't play the genetics card," the tabby said. "That could have been anyone's tail." He paused for a second. "Mike."

Mike bolted upright, binder in his arm. His eyes widened themselves and his tail twitched. "You know who I am?" He asked.

"Racing," the tabby said, applying a cocky smile to his face. "What does it take?" He walked down the hallway to his class.

"I'd like to see you try!" Mike said, making his way down the same hallway to get to his Physics class. "What a way to ruin my first day, whoever you are," he said to himself as he entered said classroom.

Mike managed to avoid the tabby for a while, thus having good classes, until he sat in his seat for his Government class. He saw the tabby enter the room behind the smaller, cinnamon-furred tom that he remembered from his Physics class, and both took a seat in the back of the classroom.

Mike surpressed his emotions when the bell rang and the teacher began. He read through the attendance list, and each student said one thing about themselves. Mike zoned out for a while, but there was one name that he wished he never heard. "Chance Furlong!" The teacher said.

"Yes, sir?" Chance asked.

Mike turned around at the familiarity of the voice, only to see that it had come out of the tabby. At least he had a name to associate with the biggest pain in his tail, literally.

"Something about yourself," the teacher said.

"Right," Chance said. He glared at Mike. "I can't stand all the insolent asses who think they're better than they are at what they do." An angry grin spread over his face.

"Fuck you, Furlong!" Mike said, standing and pointing a finger at Chance. "Fuck you dry! I don't appreciate a personal attack like that!"

"That wasn't an attack on you," Chance said. "It was generalized!"

"Drop dead!" Mike said, going towards the door. "May as well have been!" He left the classroom and sprinted towards ISS to relax. He entered the room and took a seat in the back corner. The monitor approached him and got his attention.

"Who sent you?" She asked.

"I sent myself," Mike said as he opened his notebook. He heard someone enter the room, and turned around to see the cinnamon-furred tom from his Physics class, who he thought was named Jake.

Jake spoke to the monitor. "He stormed out of Mr. Harrington's room after freaking out on Chance Furlong," he said. "Mr. Harrington sent me to make sure he got here safely."

"Thank you, Jake," the monitor said, returning to her desk.

Mike watched as Jake left the room. Jake mouthed three, probably nasty, words at Mike, but he disregarded them. "Ah well, nice try, Jake," Mike said, turning around in the desk. "But I can't read mouths."

Mike read his Government textbook while waiting for the bell to ring so he could go home.

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**Author's Notes: This has been Chapter 1 of my revised Jake/Mike/Chance high school origin story that I promised at the end of _Thoughts of a Shambled Kittenhood_ a month ago. The chapters will be short in nature. I hope you enjoyed and please review, though not with a flame.**


	2. Classes Are Harder Than You Think

**Thank you to Komamura's Son for reviewing, and everyone else who chose to read Chapter 1.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own SWAT Kats. It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its staff. The themes are being used for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process. I do, however, own Mike.**

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Chapter 2: Classes Are Harder Than You Think

The next day, Mike discovered that he was in Chance's Physical Education class. Worse, he was the single smallest Kat in the class. He made sure he was the first one out of the locker room once he changed his clothes. He followed the rest of the class down to the football field for instruction.

"Alright," the coach said. "How many of you know how to play football and have played a game?" Mike watched everyone around him raise a paw. The coach continued. "Furlong, since you're the QB, show him the ropes. Everyone else, get right to playing!"

Mike followed Chance to the sideline. 'Just my luck,' he thought as Chance prepared himself.

"You do realize how useless you'll be after today?" Chance asked Mike.

"Almost as useless as you'd be starting a Borla Series race at Auto Club Speedway," Mike said, catching the football that was tossed at him.

The rest of the class, Chance showed Mike the basic plays that he would need to know for Tuesday's class. Though many times, he threw the ball far above Mike's head, to the point that he couldn't catch it, even by jumping. The ball was also thrown into the crowd of the rest of the class, and Mike was nearly run over each time.

Winded and desperate to go to his next class, Mike rushed up to the locker room as quickly as he could. He changed back into his white shirt and jeans, making certain to apply his deodorant, and hurried out of the locker room before the football players entered such. 'That explains everything,' Mike pondered as he walked to Physics class. 'Chance is the school Quarterback. They have a history of being dicks to smaller Kats.' He entered the Physics room and took his seat as the bell rang. 'Four minutes until I do something worthwhile.'

Said four minutes later, the Physics teacher placed the class of 36 into nine groups of four. Each student got their own quiz paper, and had to work as a group to fill in the answers. Mike was assigned to work with Jake and two of his friends.

"Alright," Jake said, writing his name on his paper. "Here's what we'll do: Let's all get something on our papers, then we compare answers and correct anything that may be wrong. Alright?"

"Sounds good," Mike said.

"Nobody asked you," Jake said. Him and his friends began answering the questions.

Mike shrugged the remark away. 'Maybe his left-handedness is a factor?' He wrote his answers to the first few questions. 'Nah, that wouldn't amount to much.' He answered the remaining questions.

The other three Kats in Mike's group finished before him, and proceeded to interrupt him. "Mike," Jake said. "Did you get to the question about the constant of gravity?" Mike shook his head. "Good. Answer's 10.4 meters per square second."

Mike cocked his head. "No, I'm pretty sure it's 9.8."

Jake and Mike argued about it for the rest of the class. "Oh, alright! You win, Clawson!" Mike said as he wrote 10.4 on his answer line, prepared to prove Jake wrong.

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**Well, here's the incredibly short Chapter 2. As always, please review, but not with a flame. Expect Chapter 3 in another 7 days.**


	3. Memory Flashes

**Disclaimer: I do not own _SWAT Kats_. It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its staff. The ideas used are for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process. I do, however, own Mike.**

**Author's Notes: I included an allusion to _Thoughts of a Shambled Kittenhood_ somewhere in this chapter. If you read _Thoughts of a Shambled Kittenhood_, try to find it!**

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Chapter 3: Memory Flashes

Over the weekend, Mike flew to Daytona Superspeedway to compete for the HKS Summer Series championship. Save for a couple of early spins, the 100 mile event was rather clean, and he led most of the laps. Most importantly, he led lap 40, which won him the Y2K title. The #46 GE Ford Mustang would forever be added to the ranks of HKS title-winning cars.

Sunday morning, Mike flew back to MegaKat City $14,000 richer, with one more trophy in his possession, and with a flag with his number and signature on it. He also returned with barely enough time to get ready for school tomorrow. He rushed off of the plane and through the airport once getting there, and drove back to the homeless shelter to drop everything off.

Mike made his way to school alert, despite having had only 3 hours of sleep the night before. All of his classes went considerably well, worries about Chance or Jake absent, until Physics. The teacher pulled Mike aside as everyone else filed in.

"Mike," the teacher said. "What is the meaning of this?" She pulled out his worksheet from Friday. It had a 'D' next to his name. "You should remember this material!"

Mike looked through the paper quickly. "Those weren't my errors," Mike said, taking the paper. "Jake gave me those answers!"

"Jake?" The teacher asked. "He wouldn't do that."

Mike stormed back to his seat. He held his paper in front of Jake's face. "Thanks a lot, asshole," he said, dropping it in the cinnamon tom's work area.

"No problem, nut," Jake said, tearing the paper to shreds.

"I knew I shouldn't have listened to you." Mike set his books down for the lesson.

"You can't correct your paper to raise your grade now!" The teacher said from the front of the room.

"Fuck it!" Mike said back.

Miraculously, this was disregarded by the rest of the class, including the instructor. Mike copied down the notes from the board and left for the lunchroom at the bell. Once there, he set his books down at the corner table and purchased his lunch of a steak sandwich and pomegranates. He sat down at his table and got lost in those thoughts.

Not feeling hungry, Mike pushed his tray to the side and pulled out a piece of loose-leaf paper from his notebook. He sketched the first image that popped into his mind, without examining what it was.

Five minutes later, he looked at the paper to see what he had drawn. He had ended up drawing his two former best friends back at the homeless shelter, Daymond and LeRoy. 'Hmm, those two look familiar right next to each other like this,' Mike pondered, studying more closely.

Then, it hit him. The way he drew his former best friends reminded him of Chance and Jake. "No way possible," Mike said to himself. "No, Mike, they'll never be your friends. Daymond and LeRoy were too unlike them."

A loudspeaker announcement drew Mike out of his rêverie. "Attention everyone," the voice said. "Due to a criminal attack in this area of MegaKat City, everyone is now dismissed."

Mike watched all of the Kats around him scurry out of the cafeteria, and onto their buses. Not long after, all of the buses seemingly vanished from the parking lot. "Smart move," Mike said to himself, picking up his books and leaving the cafeteria himself, his lunch remaining untouched on the table. "Putting those Kits in more danger than if they stayed here."

Mike made his way downstairs to the locker room, intending to bring his PE clothing home to wash. Two Kats noticed him enter the area. 'Oh, fuck.'

The two Kats were none other than Jake and Chance. Both were shirtless. 'They look damn sexy, though.'

"Well, well," Chance said, nearing Mike. "Look who decided to join us, Jake."

Jake approached the other two Kats, placing a paw on Mike's shoulder. "Yup," Jake said. "Our new best bud." He eyed Mike.

Mike shared Jake's gaze, sitting himself on the bench in front of his locker. "You...you actually m...mean that?" He asked, hope glimmering in the back of his mind.

Jake and Chance burst out laughing, almost falling over the bench. They shared a high five as they calmed themselves. "We got him good, pal!" Jake said to Chance.

"I know!" Chance said. "Can you believe he fell for it?"

Mike's body felt torn apart seeing his new desire for friendship float out of his reach. "Look guys," he said, giving himself stomach pains over what he's saying. "I didn't want to be a douche to you two."

Chance shoved Mike against the lockers. "Don't lie," he said, leaning in towards Mike. "You did what you meant to do."

"I'm only bad to those who are bad to me," Mike said. "And I don't want to be bad to everyone I meet."

Jake threw a punch at Mike's arm. "Don't bother, won't happen," he said.

Mike winced, and rubbed his arm. "I don't want to fight," he said. The response was a punch to his other arm from Chance.

"Oh," Chance said. "Looks like you already are."

Mike shut his senses down as he was hit on his arms again, reliving an old memory he sought to forget. With his arms numb, the beating moved to his legs, where he felt a sensation similar to his shin being broken. He saw Jake slit the skin over his knee, and a tear fell down his cheek as he watched the blood trickle down his thigh.

Chance slammed Mike's head against the locker, elevating Mike's pain further. His vision blurred, then went red when he felt his nose get punched. He slipped into a deep sleep as footsteps made their way into the locker room.

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**Chapter 3 has now concluded. Review if you'd like, though not with a flame, and look for Chapter 4 in seven more days.**


	4. The New Perception 200

**Disclaimer: I do not own _SWAT Kats._ It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its subsidaries. The themes are being used for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process. I do, however, own Mike.**

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Chapter 4: The New Perception 200

When Mike woke, he found himself tucked into his bed in his room at the homeless shelter. He felt his leg, thankfully there was no cast on his shin. He could feel the gauze on his knee through his jeans, expecting his gray fur to be stained red. He could see similar gauze covering his nose and a corner of his mouth. He was still seeing red.

A figure stood next to the bed. "Mike?" It said. "You're safe now. Wake up."

"Ugh," Mike said. He leaned up and made eye contact with the Kat standing next to him. "What happened to them?"

"They've been suspended for one week for what they did to you," the Kat said. He pointed to Mike's dinner table. "All of your teachers have delivered all of your work for the next week, so you can do it in comfort while you heal."

"To my two most desired friends," Mike said, lying back down. "Thanks for your help, sir."

"No problem, Mike," the Kat said, going towards the door. "I'll see you on Monday!" Mike nodded, and went back to sleep for another hour.

Throughout the week, Mike gradually completed his work by subject area. With the occasional visit from a teacher or friend, this made up his week. He liked it that way, though, since public schooling had worn him out. His face managed to heal itself completely, save for scabs and fresh, furless skin in a couple of spots.

He also prepared to fulfill his Borla National Series contract with veteran driver Jeff Long during his time off. His contract was to run all four races at Southern California speedways, and the fourth was in two days. His phone rang to confirm this. "Yes, Jeff?" Mike asked through the phone.

There was a pause. "Yeah, I'm on my way." Mike hung up and walked out of the homeless shelter.

He made his way to MegaKat Central Speedway, where Jeff led him to his car for the weekend. "Ready for this?" Jeff asked.

"Um, 105?" Mike asked, putting his firesuit on over his sweatshirt and jeans. "What happened to 15?"

"I was lucky enough to have two entries this week, and had to move you over," Jeff said. "I should have said something during my call earlier."

"It's fine," Mike said, slipping into the car and applying his safety gear. "Oh, looks like I'm up to qualify."

Mike drove his GE Ford Mustang onto the track. Exciting himself, he rushed to the green, and pushed out his fastest laps ever. Since he was the last to qualify, he saw that he won pole position. Once in the garage, Jeff helped him out of the car with a tear in his eye. "What's wrong, Jeff?" Mike asked.

"A Jeff Long Racing front row," he said. His other entry qualified second. "Hasn't happened since 1977."

"Well, congrats then," Mike said, shaking Jeff's paw. "Glad I could make it happen." Mike saw who looked like Chance Furlong get out of a car, but doubted that it was really him and approached his pit crew.

The next day, Mike led the field of 40 to the green flag. He raced his teammate during the opening laps, and at a yellow flag on lap 52, decided to pit. "Let's go 4 tires and fuel," Mike suggested over his radio. "No adjustments, drives like a dream."

Mike led the lead-lap cars to pit road, and his pit crew changed the tires and filled the fuel tank. Mike was the first off pit road, and lined up on the outside front row for the restart.

Mike noticed something abnormal about the car next to him. The name above the window read 'Chance Furlong'. Mike's stomach dropped at the sight. 'How could he have done this? Because of me?' He approached the green flag and let him go ahead so as not to get a penalty.

Chance made his pit stop a couple of laps later, allowing Mike to reassert the lead. A few more laps passed, and he backed off, dropping to second. "I'm a little tight this run," he said on the radio.

"Wait it out," Mike's crew chief said. "We'll fix it on our next stop."

Mike fell back to 5th by the time he made his green flag stop on lap 129. His car got four new tires, a fuel refill, and a track bar adjustment. "Now, just race hard," Mike's crew chief said. "You have enough to go to the end." Mike resumed his regular pace as the transmission ended.

Mike found himself in second once all the cars cycled through pit road, ending with the 9 of Chance on lap 154. He raced hard with the leader, almost passing him many times, but he didn't clear him until lap 197. He held him off for three more miles to win the race.

Mike drove into victory lane and enjoyed the soda shower given to him. He accepted his prize money and retreated to the garage area, where he saw Jake and Chance conversing next to the 9 car, the tabby still in his own firesuit. Mike stopped at the spot in the garage for the 105 car, today's surprise winner, and removed his firesuit before heading home.

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**We're almost done here! Now that the New Perception 200 has concluded in Mike's favor, and after Chance as a surprise entry, will they change, perhaps see racing in a new light? Maybe not? Find out in 6 days, when the final chapter will be uploaded.**


	5. Revised Visions

**I thought I would be nice to all of my readers and upload the conclusion to _First Impressions Don't Define_ a day early!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _SWAT Kats_. It is owned by Hanna-Barbera and its subsidiaries. The themes being used are for my own enjoyment and no profit is being made in the process. I do, however, own Mike.**

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Chapter 5: Revised Visions

The next day, Mike returned to school, the remnants of his injuries remaining. He got nervous at the sight of Chance and Jake at his locker. He noticed, though, that they didn't look angry, rather remorseful. "What do you want?" Mike asked.

"I just wanted to say," Chance said, stepping back so Mike could get in. "I was wrong. I learned that it takes a lot to race well after yesterday."

"Where did you finish?" Mike asked, opening the locker.

"P26," Chance said. "And you won, that's my point. I don't think I can get back on the track if my life depends on it."

"I saw you speaking with Jake," Mike said as he unloaded his bookbag. "Did he crew chief for you?"

"Yeah," Jake said. "Hard job, even when you know how to build the car."

"Just keep in mind, guys," Mike said, closing the locker. "That my win was more fluke than anything. My average Borla finish is 20.8."

"Doesn't matter," Jake and Chance said simultaneously. "We had no real reason to beat on you."

"If it helps," Jake said as the three toms walked down the hall. "I was given an F on that Physics paper that I made you fail."

"And I've been sidelined as quarterback for three weeks," Chance said.

The trio was silent for a few moments. "Well, you two are damn lucky that I'm as easily forgiving as I am," Mike said, shaking Chance's paw. He shook Jake's a few seconds later.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how miserable he was after last week," Chance told Mike after Jake went to his class.

"I would be, too," Mike said before parting with Chance.

Over the next several weeks, Mike built a new friendship with Chance and Jake. When Mike worked with Jake in Physics class, they always checked their answers correctly, and got the two highest grades in the class. When Chance worked with Mike in PE, they practiced all of the plays correctly, and Mike eventually became the best receiver for their in-class games.

"Well, another win for Team FS!" Chance said as he walked into the locker room, paw-in-paw with Mike.

"They do say 'don't underestimate the little guy'," Mike said before changing and waiting upstairs. Once there, he bumped fists with Chance before heading to Physics.

Once in Physics, Mike took his seat next to Jake, ready to receive their grades for the latest group test. They got said test a minute later, both copies had a big 'A' on the top. "We did it again, bud," Mike said to Jake.

"As always," Jake said, sharing a high-five with Mike.

Mike couldn't be happier inside. He had the two Kats of his dreams as best friends, he had A's in every class, and everyone else accepted him for who he is. 'This will last, if I'm lucky, another month.' Little did he know he would have his friends for nearly the rest of his life.

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**Predictable ending? Maybe, but don't flame about this. Thanks for reading _First Impressions Don't Define_. Please leave final thoughts in the review section, and look for my next story in Mid-February. I may even have a deleted ending to add for this one...**

**Thanks to:  
-Komamura's Son for reviewing  
-Kusa for favoriting  
-Everyone else who chose to read for doing so!**


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